


Fifteen Minutes

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy does her best to make good use of her breaks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifteen Minutes

Buffy never told anybody what she did on her breaks. As far as her coworkers were concerned, she got headaches from the grease that left her needing to step outside for some fresh air, and it wasn't uncommon for someone to comment on how much better she looked when she got back, cheeks pink and eyes bright. Sometimes she wondered what any of them would say if they knew about her own private 'tension reliever', but she wasn't about to find out.  
  
Breaks were only fifteen minutes, hardly any time at all, really. They usually had to make do with a fast, straightforward fuck, and while Spike certainly knew how to make the best of it, she was learning that quickies didn't do his real talent justice. He was best when he had the time to lavish on her, when Dawn was in school and she had the day off work, and he could spend hours turning her into a little puddle of Slayer-goo. There were nights, especially when she worked double shifts, that Buffy regretted not going with Spike when he'd asked her to. But he hadn't offered again, and she wasn't about to ask, not even if the thought of life as Spike's kept woman had given rise to several very good fantasies.  
  
She smiled at the memory of her favorite one, where Spike kept her naked all day while he fed her chocolate-covered strawberries, and slid the order across to her customer. "Hey, Becca? I'm taking my break."  
  
When Becca came up to relieve her, Buffy hurried out back, where, sure enough, Spike was already waiting for her, leaning up against the wall, one hand lazily stroking himself through his jeans. The sight was enough to make her weak in the knees. Who'd've thought it could be that hot watching a guy grope himself? But there wasn't enough time to appreciate it, not really, so she added that to the list of 'Things To Do On My Next Day Off' and walked over to replace his hand with hers. "Is that for me?"  
  
"Nobody else," he assured her. One quick turn saw their positions reversed, and she spread her legs as he shoved her skirt up. "No bra, no panties, an' just drippin' wet... Slayer's a dirty girl, she is," he teased, stroking her while she yanked his jeans open.  
  
"You're a pig, Spike." But she wasn't about to turn him away, not when he was hoisting her up and pressing her against the wall. Buffy moaned as he slid inside, hard and thick and exactly what she'd been needing. She didn't have to tell him what she wanted - he was as familiar with the drill as she was, and he set the pace hard and fast, just like always.  
  
"Fuck, Slayer," Spike gasped, thrusting up into her. "Wish I could take your shirt off, see those gorgeous tits of yours bounce while I fuck you, play with 'em an' really make you scream." His fingers sought her out anyways, plucking at her through her flimsy work shirt. "When's your next day off?"  
  
"Tuesday," she panted. "You can do it Tuesday." And a lot of other things, if she had her way. She wrapped her hands around his neck, while he slid his back to cup her ass, tilting her so he hit that spot deep inside just right. "Oh, God!"  
  
Spike moaned. "Yeah, that's it. Gonna fuck you so good, spend the whole day makin' you beg for me, then slide in an' make you come so hard you pass out, gonna - ohhhh, Christ!"  
  
She was already so close, his words burning through her like a brand, that when he ground against her, she knew she wouldn't last. "Spike." She forced the word out, chanting it like a mantra while she began to shudder around him. "Spike, Spike, Spike..."  
  
"Yeah," he breathed. "Lemme hear it, pet. C'mon, come for me. Such a fuckin' goddess when you come, lemme see it, come for me, baby."  
  
Another hard thrust and grind, and she was gone, shattering in a wave of pleasure. She was dimly aware of his mouth slamming down over hers to quiet the cries she couldn't hold back, of his low groan as he thrust into her a few more times and followed over her edge, and of the inevitable passing of time, minutes slipping by in a haze of post-orgasmic satisfaction.  
  
When she forced herself to glance at her watch, she saw there were only two minutes left, and she scowled. Barely time to get cleaned up before she had to go back to work, supplying fries and burgers to ungrateful customers for another three and a half hours. "Breaks need to be a lot longer," she muttered.  
  
Spike smiled and kissed her. "Tuesday," he reminded her. "Gonna take the time an' do right by you." He eased free of her and tucked himself back in his jeans, then stole another kiss before she pushed him away and headed back inside.  
  
Buffy hid her own smile as she cleaned up in the employee bathroom, but she knew her improved mood was showing when she returned to her register for Becca's friendly teasing about how the fresh air did her so much good. Sometimes, she thought, fifteen minutes was just enough.


End file.
